


Alternate Tales

by Sethana



Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Tales of Berseria, Set during Tales of the Abyss, Tales of Berseria Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-27 11:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethana/pseuds/Sethana
Summary: Velvet Crowe. Lord of Calamity, Savior of World, and Innominat's Seal.She has given up everything to be with her brother. For them to be together for eternity. For his suffering to end. And so, she sleeps; with her dear brother in her arms and a promise of a better future with her friends.She sleeps. Then she wakes up. But now she's no longer in her world.The Lord of Calamity has a new duty to fulfill, and shewilldo it.





	1. Prologue

She was in that room again. No, that wasn’t quite right. That place of nothingness--where the souls she devoured stayed, it was a whole other realm within her. A place where nothing was right yet everything exist. An unending and constantly changing world that her sins created. A reminder of the lives she’d destroyed and the sufferings she inflicted. And oh how  _ they _ constantly remind her with so much hatred that even made her flinch.

This land, this place, it never stayed the same. It could be the peaceful image of her village, or it could be the snow-covered port of Hellawes, or even the cold and damp stone walls of her prison.The world changed according to who occupied it; the people that forever rested within her, always screaming for vengeance and the freedom that she couldn’t give.

Now, this world was an open field. Where familiar white flowers grew as far as the eyes could see and ruins of a long fallen ancient kingdom lay.

She knew this place. She knew it as much as she knew the white room where the reincarnation of her sister stayed. As much as the broken shrine that took everything away from her.

She sat at the center of the field, white flowers swaying gently to the nonexistent wind, and said to the sky, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

She knew they were there. Right behind her, in the same spot as they’d appeared before, long ago. Watching her with gazes that were no longer hateful, because they were not those people anymore, not quite.

The flowers and grass rustled, cast aside by the stride of a woman whose presence as cold as the snow. Her voice echoed in the field, stern and clipped, just like how she remembered it to be. Like how it was in the cold town of Hellawes. “And neither should you.”

“Yet here we are. The three of us.” Said the other one who was not a soul or a human anymore. Wind danced around her the moment he spoke, a not so harmless show of power, a reminder of who he was now. And if she closed her eyes, she could just remember the earnest preator who fought to protect.

Maybe it had been too long since she’d had any kind of interaction, or maybe it’d been too long since she was conscious and able to think; because right now, she could barely differentiate between present and the past. She knew they were not the siblings she killed in a moment of anger, yet she could only imagine them. Oscar Dragonia and Teresa Linares. They might look like the exorcists, have their appearances and voice, but they were not. They were the Empyreans Hyanoa and Amenoch. Reborn as them. Their overwhelming presence that were similar to the being she sealed away was proof enough.

But what were they doing here? Why would two of the elemental Empyreans be in her mindscape, of all the places they could be? And--  _ why is she conscious? _

“This is my world,” she began, a flimsy reason that she knew wouldn’t work, but used anyway, “I think I have the right to be here.”

“I’m sure you’ve realized it-- your mind  _ is _ quite bright, after all. But you, as Innominat’s seal, are supposed to be dormant. Asleep.” The Empyrean who took the vessel of Teresa said. Idly, she wondered if their consciousness were still the same as when they were humans.

“But I’m awake. Which I’m not supposed to. Not unless it’s to awaken Innominat.” She clenched her fist, feeling the distinct sensation of touch that she hadn’t been able to feel for a long time. The mere thought of the Nameless Empyrean being awake caused her to grit her teeth. Hadn’t her brother suffered enough? Both in his life as Laphicet Crowe and as the incomplete Innominat. It was with great difficulty that she spoke her next words. “So is he awake now?”

If they heard the anger and sadness in her voice, they didn’t acknowledge it. And in a way, she was thankful for that. 

“No.” It was Oscar-- no,  _ Hyanoa _ who answered. She started at that, her head snapping toward the reborn exorcists and finally facing them. Just like how she imagined, they were the same. Painfully similar to how they were as Oscar and Teresa. Clad in their respective exorcist uniform, they stood side by side, no different from how they were the last time she saw them. The Empyrean of Wind continued, heedless of her wide-eyed gaze on them. “Innominat is still asleep, contained with your seal.”

“How..?” She finally asked after a pause where she took the information in. 

“You may be awake, but your body is still in the seal. Your consciousness is the only one that has been freed. That’s why we’re in your mindscape instead of Innominat’s domain.” Hyanoa gestured to the imitation of Baird Marsh’s lands, the very same plain where his vessel died by her hands.

“Fear not. Innominat will not awaken with this. So long as you’re alive, he will feed on your malevolence, just as you will feed on his power.” Teresa--  _ Amenoch _ said.

“Is.. that so.” She muttered. There was a part of her, the same one that spurred her on her quest for revenge, that accused the Empyreans to be lying. But she ignored it. After all, Hyanoa and Amenoch themselves said it, and they had no reason to lie. Powerful and revered the Empyreans might be, she knew they were just like any other beings that wanted to live. “Then why am I awake? What reason is there to wake me?”

Hyanoa and Amenoch, Oscar and Teresa, looked at her. Their gazes were sharp and focused as they slowly approached her. She rose to her feet, watching their moves with wary eyes while resisting the urge to back away from them. Why would the Empyreans--as far as she could see--wake her? What would cause them to have gone through the length and efforts it must’ve taken to raise the Lord of Calamity, of all beings, from her slumber? There were too many questions that plagued her mind and far too little answers. 

“Velvet Crowe. Lord of Calamity and Savior of World.” Amenoch said in a tone that were neither impressed nor disappointed. She raised an eyebrow at the additional title, wondering where it had came from, but stayed silent.

Hyanoa spoke next, “You’ve committed many sins in your time, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, I am.” She said cautiously. 

The Empyrean of Water continued, “Though you’ve saved the world, your actions still leave scars on humans and seraphim alike. Even hellions cower at you name.  _ That _ is how far you’ve condemned the world in your revenge.”

_ Seraphim _ ?  _ Hellions _ ? Before she could say anything, Hyanoa intervened. “Maotelus--who you know as Laphicet, might have already found a way to wake you without breaking the seal. But we are content with letting you sleep. So we did.”

“Until now.” Amenoch finished.

“So you did awaken me..” She narrowed her eyes. Her head was brimming with the barrage of informations. Laphicet knew how to wake her. Had been for a while, judging by the way Hyanoa spoke. The Empyreans deciding not to wake her was not a surprise. Rather, she was grateful for it. But then they chose to rouse her now? No matter how she looked at it, she saw no logical reason to do so. Even the pretense of atonement wouldn’t be reason enough for the four elemental Empyreans to let her go.

“After much contemplation, yes.” Hyanoa said. He now stood right before her, tall and composed like how Oscar was. Amenoch stood just behind him. Up this close, she could see how ageless and how.. humane they were. Did Hyanoa and Amenoch chose to appear like this to torment her? Or was it simply to be in a form she was familiar with?

“Know this, Lord of Calamity,” Amenoch began, “that we only did this because there are nothing that we could do directly. And..” she trailed off, and in that moment, Amenoch seemed no different from the cold but caring older sister that Teresa was. “Maotelus asked for you.”

She echoed the words, “Laphicet asked for me..?”

“He asked for you to be given this duty. As a second chance.” Hyanoa explained. “Take it as a way of atonement.”

So, it was to do their bidding. But to make her do something that they, the great Empyreans, couldn’t.. What kind of ‘duty’ could it possibly be? She stared at them, long and hard, and asked, “And what is this ‘duty’ you’re having me do?”

Hyanoa looked at her in the eyes. His green eyes seemingly glowing as wind began to pick up, causing her tattered cloak to billow around her. There was a shift in the air. A distortion in this world of illusion that was caused by a power she couldn’t ever hope to possess. Hyanoa, Oscar, then spoke, a two words sentence that carried a heavy weight in it. “Free Lorelei."

“Lorelei?” She repeated, but found that the wind swallowed her words away. She tensed her body, arms raised to defend her face as the gentle wind turned into strong gusts of air circling around her, bringing with them the white flower petals. For a second, a single moment of pause, she could see the sheer beauty of the image that the flowers created; a flurry of pure white petals dancing in the air, a scene that was not only beautiful, but also seemed symbolic in a sense.

Then the moment was gone, torn away as her mind returned to the potential threat before her. Her feet dug into the ground, metal-plated tips of her boots keeping her steady in the sudden whirlwind she found herself to be in. “What the-  _ hey _ !” She shouted at Hyanoa and Amenoch, who were completely unaffected by the happenings around them. “The hell are you doing!?”

The two Empyreans merely looked on calmly. No matter how much she shouted and cursed at them, Hyanoa and Amenoch did not respond. The wind grew even stronger. And she could only see the hazy figures of the former exorcists slowly disappearing as the wind seemed to take her away.

“Remember, Velvet Crowe.” Amenoch said through the howls of the raging winds, voice as clear as the waters in Yseult. “You are to save, not destroy.”

  
  


When the winds finally stopped, Velvet opened her eyes to a dark sky and a field of glowing white flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to [this wiki page](http://aselia.wikia.com/wiki/Empyrean):
> 
> Maotelus: Leader of Empyreans -- Laphicet  
> Hyanoa: Empyrean of Wind -- Oscar Dragonia  
> Amenoch: Empyrean of Water -- Teresa Linares  
> Musiphe: Empyrean of Fire -- Shigure Rangetsu  
> Eumacia: Empyrean of Earth -- Melchior Mavyn
> 
>  
> 
> Story references aside, hello guys, and thanks for reading the prologue to my Tales of Berseria and Tales of the Abyss crossover fic!
> 
> Right, so, I wasn't sure how well a crossover between Berseria and Abyss would work out, but the thought of Velvet interacting with the Abyss cast-- admittedly one of my favorite cast of characters in video game, I just had to push myself to do it. It's just interesting how a morally-screwed person like Velvet would deal with the.. 'nobler' group that would save the world ( _because that is what you should do when your world is on the verge of dying_ ) like the good people with morals they are. Except for Jade because we all know that he is just as screwed as Velvet if not more.
> 
> So! I hope that I have your attention with this prologue. Chapter 1-- or, well, Chapter 2 on the chapter list-- is being edited and hopefully will be posted in the near future. Please leave a comment and tell me how I did, and I'll see you all in the next chapter!


	2. of Confusement and Unanswered Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we dive into the mind of another character.

For a long while, Velvet stared at the sudden change of scenery, surprised to the point of silence.

She was in a valley. There were hills behind her, and if she listened closely, she could hear the rushing sound of river. The cliff she stood on overlooked the sea, where a shining full moon hung far above the horizon, partly covered by thin wisps of clouds. But most noticeably, surrounding her feet were numerous patches of flowers; _glowing_ white flowers.

Velvet raked her eyes over these details, her mind reeling at the abrupt change of sceneries, and instinctively said, “Where the hell am I?”

Her voice carried across the field, where it was replied by chirps of insects and owl hoots. And, as if also responding her, a gust of air blew on the field, rustling the grass and flowers and even carried some pieces of them into the air.

The image was awfully familiar, if only a bit different. But of course it would. Because wasn’t it just a few moments ago when she saw a flurry of white flower petals in the air, blown by unnatural wind that was caused by a being that controlled that very element? Right after _he_ told her of her ‘duty’?

_“Free Lorelei.” Hyanoa said, green eyes glowing as wind billowed around them._

Like a dam suddenly bursting forth with water, all of Velvet’s thoughts slammed on her with the force that rivalled a certain pirate’s hit.

“Hyanoa? Amenoch?” Velvet found herself calling into the empty field. She swiveled around, taking in her surroundings once more as she continuously called for the former exorcists-- _Empyreans_ , and finally noticing that there was something odd and _wrong_. It was in the feel of the ground beneath her boots, in the vegetation that grew in the field, in the air that she breathed in-- something that she knew wasn’t right but couldn’t quite put a finger on.

But no matter how much she called out, nothing came. There was no familiar presence or footsteps or voices that answered her. Nothing. Nothing but the quiet whispers of the valley and the feeling of wrongness that permeated into her very being.

“What..” she said, quietly, confused. “What did they do..?”

Hyanoa and Amenoch did something to her. No, _all_ of the Empyreans; Hyanoa, Amenoch, Musiphe, Eumacia, and Laphicet-- _Maotelus_ , all had done something to her. She knew it. She _felt_ it in that whirlwind that Osc-- _Hyanoa_ created. But what?

She had felt like being forcefully placed someplace. Ripped away from her mindscape and put somewhere. And she was. She was no longer in that dreamed imitation of Baird Marsh, wasn’t she? She was now in a valley full of glowing flowers, a place that she never saw before-- _why_?

Was she taken away to fulfill this ‘atonement’? To a place outside her mindscape, where she had to do something. Somewhere very different from the almost ethereal world of Innominat’s domain. Somewhere in a world where she could feel that everything _truly_ exist instead of being an illusion.

Not an illusion. Truly exist. _Real_.

Could it be..?

Then, with a jolt of realization, she realized that the wrongness she felt was actually a feeling of _disconnection_ . An abrupt and bizzare change from someplace that was a part of her, to a place that stood and existed on its own. A _real_ world.

“Am I back in Desolation?” Velvet breathed out the conclusion she arrived to.

As if responding to her, another breeze blew on the field, caressing her unruly hair. Velvet breathed in deeply.

She was back in Desolation. After -- _how long has it been?_ \-- a long time, she was back. In a world that she left behind, all to fulfill her ‘duty’--

_“Free Lorelei.”_

“Right,” she murmured. She had a purpose here. A duty. An order. “Right. Lorelei. They told me to free--”

Suddenly, a voice called out, sounding _so_ close to her that she immediately stopped talking.

“... _Help.. my.._ ”

Velvet whirled around, instantly snapping into a battle stance. “Who’s there!?”

Yet there was no one. The field was empty as far as she could see. And, she noticed with apprehension and alarm-- the valley was quiet. Unnaturally silent. Not a single sound from the wildlife was heard. In this silence, she could hear the blood rushing in her ear with crystal clarity.

The voice sounded once again, seemingly echoing inside her head. “ _My scion.._ ”

“Who the hell are you!?” Velvet shouted into the silent valley. The voice didn’t respond. Several tense moment passed, and she almost thought that the voice had fallen silent, but it came back, this time sounding quieter and weaker.

“ _Guide.. him.. ..Release.. me…_ ”

As the last echoes of the unknown voice faded away, sound rushed into her ears. Chirps and hoots and crashes of waves, it all returned at once. As if life just resumed its course in an instant and Velvet was the sole witness of the event that took place.

Too surprised to speak, she could only gaze at the calm waters far in the horizon, her form illuminated by the moon above that steadily glow brighter as seconds passed.

..Wait, glow brighter?

Velvet's eyes widen at the sudden realization, her head snapping up to see a ball of light growing closer and closer to her.

She dived out of the way just in time for the flash of light to shoot down from the sky and landed right where she had been.

 

* * *

 

Luke fon Fabre was dying.

No, really. He was dying. Of boredoom.

For the umpteenth time that day, Luke let out a keening sound that almost seemed like a dying animal. It was pathetic, sure. And his father would likely strangle him if he ever heard it. But Luke was _bored_ and a bored Luke would do anything.

“You know, you _can_ read those books the Princess sent you to pass the time.”

Except that.

“And instead dying from economics and finance bullshit? No thanks. I’d sooner braid my hair than do that.”

Guy huffed in amusement as he tinkered with.. whatever machinery he got his hands on. His friend-- servant-- servant-friend?-- took one of the screwdrivers beside him and began unscrewing something in the box-like thing. “Well, you’ve braid your hair once.. So why not do that again?”

“Oh, heck no!” Luke shoved Guy’s leg with his own. “That was only because Mother wanted to play with my hair, and you know it!”

Guy easily dodged another attempt of a shove and laughed good naturedly. “But it looked good on you. Why, I almost thought that you had a long lost twin sister or something.”

“It did not!”

The only response he got was another bout of laughter. Luke crossed his arms and scowled. “Jerk.”

“‘ _Amazing_ ’ jerk, don’t you forget that.”

Luke opened his mouth, a retort on his friend’s catchphrase ready on the tip of his tongue; when suddenly, an intense searing pain bloomed in his head. “Argh-!” He doubled over, and before he knew it, he was laying on the floor. Writhing as his head pounded with agonizing pain.

“Luke!?”

There was a clanging of metal and Luke blearily opened his eyes to see Guy jumping to his feet. The servant crouched by his side and tentatively hold his shoulders. “Hey, what's wrong--”

“ _Headache_ ,” Luke croaked out and hissed at another wave of pain. He curled his body, trying to resist the pain that now covered his whole body. The cold and hard tiled floor kept him aware of his surroundings, and Guy's steady and firm hold grounded him, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to distract him from--

“ _Luke_ .. _Heed my.. voice…_ ”

And of course it was the damn voice again.

“Ngh-!” Luke managed to groan, but it didn't convey what he wanted to say. _What do you want!?_

“ _You must.. await Calamity… Find.. and release me…_ ”

Luke gasped as the pain disappeared and left him reeling. He desperately inhaled big gulps of air as his mind tried to make sense of what happened. His head hurt and his chest felt like bursting and did he mention his head _hurt_?

Luke cradled his head in his hands. After what seemed like hours, but Luke knew was most likely just a few minutes, his pounding headache finally died out.

“You okay?” Guy asked when Luke wasn't wincing anymore.

“Y-yeah,” Luke nodded weakly. He gulped, and noticed how dry his throat felt. He grimaced. “Water,”

Thankfully, Guy took the order without delay. He went to the general direction of the table and returned with a glass of water. Luke snatched the glass and immediately downed its content.

“Feeling better?”

“What does it look like?” Luke snapped and though Guy said nothing, the slight flinch of his body said it all. He sighed agitatedly, squashing the unfamiliar tinge in his chest before saying, “I’m- I still feel like shit, but no longer thirsty, I guess..”

The blond’s face relaxed just a little bit. His bright blue eyes softening. “Alright.” He then sat beside Luke. “So, it’s one of those headaches again? But you looked like you were in more pain than usual..”

Luke huffed. It rubbed him wrong that the voice-hearing headache was considered so normal in his life. Damnit, it felt like he was a cripple that needed constant surveillance. And it was all the Malkuth’s fault for kidnapping him and making him like this.

“I don’t know. The damn voice was more annoying, and-” _it said something new_. But something prevented Luke from saying it, a gut feeling that told him not to tell anyone of the ‘calamity’. Logic dictated that he should inform someone of such vague wording, but Luke never did follow logic. He trusted his instinct more. “Nothing.” He shook his head.

Guy hesitated, but eventually nodded. “If you say so.”

They then sat in silence. It wasn’t an awkward one, but neither was it so comfortable. Guy kept shooting him glances, like he was expecting Luke to keel over anytime soon. And no matter how much he would like to deny it, he also expected the same. What a life he was living in. To be scared of headaches, of all things.

A _ding dong_ sounded, and Luke glanced at the grandfather clock tucked beside the dresser of Pere's side of the room. Guy did too, as he took a single glance at the time and then shook his head, as if shaking away his thoughts.

“You should go back to your room now. The servant's quarter won't be empty much longer.” Guy said. And sure enough, the clock showed that it was 3 o'clock, the designated break time for the Manor's servants.

Luke sighed irritably. Here he was, sneaking into Guy’s-- and Pere's-- room to pass the time with some company, yet it ended up being all tense and uncomfortable. “Fine.” He got up and stood on wobbly legs, ignoring Guy's outstretched arms that were ready to hold him should anything happen.

Luke made his way to the door, hand resting on the handle, when Guy spoke.

“Luke,” Said boy turned his head around to look at the servant. Guy smiled, and Luke felt his irritation easing if only a bit. “I'll check up on you later.”

Knowing that it meant Guy would come to his room later, Luke grinned, and returned, “I'm not a baby that needs to be looked after.”

“Yep, you're not. You're a little boy that I need to look after.”

“I'm just three years younger than you!”

“That's years of difference.”

Luke huffed and opened the door in mock anger. And no, he was _not_ pouting. Despite Guy saying so.

Guy's laughter carried out into the hallway before it was muffled by the closed door. Luke stood in the desolate hall, smiling to himself, then turned to walk to the window.

“Now to get out without being seen..”

 

Miraculously, Luke managed to sneak out without encountering anyone. There were a few close calls with some maids, but other than that, he was clear. He wondered if the manor’s defenses were _really_ as tight as his family made it to be if even he, the guards’ primary concern, managed to evade their notice without them knowing any better.

At least that mean he could occasionally sneak around. Even going to the servant's quarter.

(He purposely ignored the fact that Guy had (repeatedly) explicitly forbidden him from wandering into the servant’s quarter.)

Luke strolled out of his room after getting in through the 'alternate’ entryway, hands in his pockets and gaze set on the courtyard. Pere was diligently tending to the garden, humming a little tune to himself as he scoop out some fertilizer. At the bench to his left was a few maids milling about, probably gossiping about something. And around the doorways were some guards patrolling, their full body armor and sharp spears glinting under the sunlight.

“Oh, hello Master Luke!”

Luke started, turning his gaze to Pere, who had one arm up in a cheery greeting. He nodded. “Hey there, Pere.” He then cocked his head. “Not getting some break? You’ve been digging at the dirt for a while.”

The old gardener smiled. “As soon as these flowers are tended to.” He gestured to the patch to his side, where a bunch of pink flowers grew. When he spoke again, it was with a certain tenderness. “Flowers are delicate thing. They need to be cared for diligently. But their beauty when they bloom is all worth it.”

“Huh. Well, I'm not really interested with getting dirty with plants. But nice fact, I guess.” Luke said when Pere didn’t continue.

Pere chuckled heartily. “Each person has their own hobbies. You have your sword, and I have my gardening tools.”

Luke perked up. “Heh, wanna try the swords, Pere?” He grinned. His hand itched to clasp itself around a sword's handle, and, not for the first time in that day, he desperately wished for Master Van to hurry up and come back.

Pere laughed unabashedly, holding his gardening hat with one hand in a sheepish gesture. “As interesting as that sounds, I'm afraid my spine can't take it. Now, if my body is decades younger..”

“What, you're gonna whoop ass around Baticul?” Luke rolled his eyes, but there was only amusement.

“Oh, I might.” Pere's eyes twinkled with something that Luke couldn't understand. But the smile hadn't dropped from the older man's face, so he took it as an old man's joke. His next words solidified it. “I might be old, but I still have lots of spirit in me.”

Before Luke could give a reply, a sharp cough interrupted him, and his eye twitched at the familiar noise.

“Young Master,” Ramdas said behind him, voice clipped and tone neutral, sounding like the perfect servant he always appeared as. “His Grace requested your presence in the drawing room.”

Luke grimaced. His father wanted to see him? Joy. He could already imagine the cold glare and disappointed voice.

“Young Master..” Ramdas said again, now sounding reprimanding. And didn't Luke told him to stop calling him 'Young’ Master?

“Gah, fine. I'll see him soon.” Luke said, feeling his irritation flare. He waved away the head servant, but said servant didn't budge from his spot.

Ramdas sighed. “Now, Master Luke.”

“Do I _have_ to?”

“Yes.” Ramdas said firmly. “Commandant Grants is also waiting in the drawing room.”

“Yeah yea-- _Wait_ , what? Master Van?” Luke repeated. Why was he here? It wasn't training day. _But_ , the prospect of seeing his teacher again sooner than he expected took his full attention, so he disregard the questions. Excitement bubbled up, smothering his earlier annoyance, but he tried to play it cool, ignoring the way Ramdas and Pere were looking at him funny. “Alright, I’ll get going now.”

“Understood, Young Master. Then, I shall escort you.”

He paused, then frowned. “This is my home. I don’t need any escorting. That’s just ridiculous.”

“I must insist.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Do whatever you want.”

Pere chuckled. “Well then, Master Luke. I’ll return to my work now. Please excuse me.”

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Luke grinned. “See ya, Pere.” He saw the gardener nod before he turned on his feet and began his march to the drawing room, Ramdas right on his tail.

It wasn't until they were out of the courtyard and walking in the hall that Ramdas began, “Young Master,”

“What is it?” Luke asked without looking back. His mind was occupied with the thought of meeting his teacher. Would Master Van give him an impromptu training? Maybe show him another arte than Fang Blade? Or maybe even tell him of that cool sounding ‘Mys-whatever Arte’ he mentioned a few weeks ago--

“You should refrain from from casually conversing with the gardener, or any of the servants for that manner. His Grace wishes that you do so.”

His thoughts scrambled to a stop. Oh. _Oh_. This talk again.

His irritation reared its head. A frown tugged at his mouth, and he snapped, “I’ve told you before, _stop_ ordering me around, damnit!”

Ramdas’ voice faltered, and Luke noted the servant’s hesitation, satisfied that his words had an effect. Unfortunately, the head servant seemed to immediately regain his bearing, for he replied with an even voice. “My apologies, Young Master. I do not mean to order you, but this is a direct instruction from His Grace--”

With a scowl, Luke fasten his pace. Behind him, Ramdas continued talking. He lost count of how many times Ramdas tried to stop him from talking with the servants, saying that it wasn't proper for his position and _bla bla bla_ . Well guess what? _He_ was their Master. He would do whatever he damn well please. Screw his father's order. The man wasn't even present in his life most of the time.

As they neared the end of the hall, the guards saluted and moved to the side. Luke took this brief chance to swivel around and held his hand out, nearly jabbing Ramdas in the chest had the latter not stopped in time.

“Then go tell my father to say that to me by himself.” Luke said, too caught up in the moment to rethink his words. Which might be his biggest fault, if he could ever bring himself admit it.

Immediately, a swell of regret rose in him, and he clamped his mouth shut. His father wouldn’t have an objection with that. In fact, Duke Fabre would gladly rebuke him without sugar-coating his words, only harsh facts and subtle insults. And- Luke had to resist swallowing-- the man would even use physical force if he had to.

“Got it?” He internally kick himself at how his voice wavered. “Now, dismissed.”

He didn’t wait to hear Ramdas’ response, or spare more than a fleeting glance, he just turned around and pushed the double doors open, letting them slam shut behind him.

“Oh, Luke! There you are.” His mother greeted him once he stepped foot into the room.

On the head of the table, Duke Fabre shot him a piercing look. “You’re late. I asked for you to come ten minutes ago.”

Luke’s throat constricted, suddenly reminded of what he said to Ramdas, and he cleared it with a cough. “I..”

“Dear, no need to be so hard on him. He came, didn’t he?” His mother said before he could fumble through an excuse. Susanne smiled lightly at her husband, who scoffed but didn’t press the issue.

Instead, Duke Fabre said, “Sit down.”

The order was clearly meant for him, and Luke obediently took a sit next to-- he noted with a spark of happiness-- Master Van. Said man gave a warm smile and a nod to him. Luke instinctively spoke, “Master Van, I--”

“ _Luke_ ,” He quickly shut his mouth at the scolding voice. Duke Fabre looked at him with something akin to contempt, and Luke ignored the cold feeling that crawled up his arms. “Later.”

Luke averted his gaze from the man who was his father. He wanted nothing more than to speak to his teacher. For Master Van to spend time with him. But,

“We’ll speak later, Luke.” Master Van said lowly, almost a whisper. Luke blinked in surprise, but then nodded enthusiastically, his mood lightened.

“Now,” Duke Fabre began, garnering attention from the room’s occupants. “Luke, I called you here to inform you that Commandant Grants will not be able to train you for unspecified amount of time.”

“What!?” Before he realized it, Luke was already on his feet. “Why-!?”

“ _Sit down_.” Was all Duke Fabre needed to say to stop him.

Reluctantly, Luke returned to his seat. His face was still one of incredulousness when he looked upon his teacher in search for denial.

The man’s solemn gaze did nothing to lessen the panic and confusement that took ahold of Luke.

“Commandant Grants is needed by his duties. As such, he will be absent to mentor you.” He heard his father said.

‘ _But who would train me then!?_ ’ He wanted to shout, but the thought of his father-- angry and disappointed-- and the multiple reprimands he’d gotten held him back.

“Luke,” Master Van said, soft and understanding, ‘ _safe and comforting_ ’ his mind supplied. “As you know, I’m the leader of the God Generals. My duty is to the Order of Lorelei first and foremost. Which by extension is to the Fon Master himself. It is my job to protect Fon Master Ion and prevent any harm to fall upon him, along with the Fon Master Guardians.”

His mother must have noticed his confused gaze at the table, for she explained, “Fon Master Ion is the leader of the Order of Lorelei. He is the one that keeps the peace between our Kingdom of Kimlasca and the Malkuth Empire.”

Master Van nodded. “Fon Master Ion is the symbol of peace that reigns today. As such, he is an important figure all across Auldrant. If he was to be harmed, then it would affect Kimlasca and Malkuth’s relation.” The man then sighed lowly, eyes shutting close and expression weary. “Unfortunately, the Fon Master has gone missing. And it is my duty to join the search party for Fon Master Ion. Until he is found and his safety ensured, I cannot leave.”

“And that is why Commandant Grants has to take an absence from training you.” Duke Fabre finished. “I trust you understand the dire situation.”

“But-” Luke tried to object, and found that he couldn’t fight back. Not under those expectant gazes.

‘ _Who would pay attention to me then?_ ’

Luke ignored the thought, burying it deep in the recess of his mind.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I will try to make up for this when I return.” Master Van smiled apologetically at him. “In the meantime, why don’t we have one last training session before I set for Daath?”

Instantly, Luke cried out, “Really!?”

“It’s the least I could do.” The man said.

Luke rose to his feet, wanting nothing more than to barrel into his room and grab his equipment, but his father’s glare stopped him before he could leave the table.

His mother whispered something to her husband, something too low for Luke to hear. He held his breath and waited as the Duke’s expression pinched before slowly settling into one of grudging resignation.

“You’re free to go.” The lord of the house announced, and said nothing more.

Luke felt a wide grin on his face and he immediately ran toward the doors, barely hearing the muttered “he needs to learn manner” by his father.

His heart beat erratically in his chest. Happiness flooded into him like a broken dam. _He's going to get an impromptu training today_ . _Master Van is here to teach him_. After he thought that today wouldn't pass with any excitement like usual.

But along with the happiness also came anxiety and dread, and he bit his lip, thinking of his teacher's imminent departure and absence.

Master Van would be back, right? After he found that Ion person, Master Van would come back to him, right? He would teach him and they would spend more time together. He _would_ be back. Right..?

..Yeah, he would. He definitely would. Master Van never lied to him. Luke knew this as a fact.

He could trust Master Van.

With that in mind, Luke pushed his legs faster.

And bumped into Guy.

No, that wasn't right. He _crashed_ into Guy. Yeah, that was more like it.

He crashed into Guy at top speed. Headfirst.

“Whoa whoa _whoa!_ ” Was all the familiar voice said before Luke barreled into him.

“Uuhh.. huh?” Blinking dizzily, Luke held the servant's arms in order to regain his balance. It was a miracle that Luke didn’t bring himself and the servant crashing to the ground. And- wait, was he in the courtyard already?

He felt steady hands on his shoulders, holding him upright with a firm grip that he knew all too well, keeping him from tumbling to the ground. He looked up then, seeing his caretaker’s face lined with amusement and worry.

“Lu-- _Master Luke_ ,” Guy corrected, “why are you running?”

“Hey, Guy.” Luke removed himself from the servant’s hold. “I’m just going to my room.”

Guy raised a disbelieving eyebrow. A gesture that said more than words could.

Rolling his eyes, he crossed his arms and stressed, “ _Really_. I want to get my sword, and it’s in my room. So I’m going to my room.”

“And why do you need your sword?” Guy replied. “It’s not training day.”

Glee filled Luke as he rested his hands on his waist (and might or might not puffed his chest) as he proclaimed, “Well it is now!”

“Huh?”

“Master Van is giving me a lesson now and--” Luke stopped, his eyes widening. “I need to get going now or it’ll be a quick practice _alright see ya Guy_!” He said in a rush before running off again.

He thought that he heard Guy saying something, something too quiet for him to hear over the rushing sound in his ears, but he ignored it and proceed to burst into his room with a triumphant yell.

Luke's eyes immediately zeroed on the training wooden sword atop the drawers. With several large strides, he grabbed the worn handle, adjusted his grip, and twirl it with practiced ease.

A wide grin stretched at his face as he relished the motions that came naturally to him. His gaze wandered over to the sword-- _real sword_ \--hanging on the wall, every bit as pristine and perfect as when he’d acquired it. A gift that he’d treasured more than anything else anyone ever gave him. The weapon that he would be able to wield when he reached his goal.

“Soon,” Luke whispered. “I’ll prove that I’m strong enough to use it.”

_After however long Master Van goes._ His traitorous mind whispered. He gritted his teeth, hand tightening over the wooden handle, and quickly turned around, ignoring the low whispers of doubt that followed him as he rested his hand on the doorknob.

Then it stopped. The comforting and familiar buzz of the manor quieted down into nothing. The slow and gentle breeze that blow from the window stilled. And suddenly, it was just him.

Just him in his room in total silence.

Panic swelled inside his chest. His hands and arms and body felt cold. His feet wouldn't move no matter how much he tried to. And his head--he winced at the all too familiar pounding.

He breathed out, slowly, shakily, pushing the pain to the side and listened with rapt attention to the rushing sound of his blood and the far too loud beat of his heart. _Only him_.

The world fell into absolute silence. And--

“ _Calamity is coming.. Find her._ ”

\--sounds and warmth and the feelings in his whole body returned.

Luke staggered forward, his shoulder hitting the door with a loud thud as he gasp for air that seemed to completely left his lungs.

That was-- the damn voice inside his head. _Again_. And it was talking about calamity, again. But,

“‘Find her’..?” The words left his lips in nothing more than a whisper. Who-- what-- _her_? Why should he find anyone? What--

He growled, shaking his head to rid of the thought and regretted it in the next second when his headache flared painfully. So he stayed still, forcing himself to not think.

_Just forget it._ He said to himself. The same mantra that he always said after another bout of headaches.

But try as he might, the words of calamity kept on echoing inside his head.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that strength returned to his body and the trembles of his hands receded into irregular twitches, until he was strong enough to stand on his own. He pushed himself away, adjusted the grip on his sword, and wrench open the door, walking out of his room with an almost unnoticeable shaky steps and toward the awaiting forms of his teacher and his friend.

Later, when the soft melodies of an ancient song sounded all throughout the manor, when artificial exhaustion and sleepiness seeped into his bones, when alarm and instincts pushed him to intercept the swing of the staff that meant to end a life, when white light engulf him and the unknown intruder and seemingly carried him elsewhere, Luke would think back on the calamity that the voice spoke of.

And wondered, as he began to lose his consciousness, as to why the word ‘calamity’ sounded so safe and comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter! Whooohooo! A-ahem-!
> 
> Sorry this took longer than I said it would. I really _did_ have the chapter finished when I posted the prologue, but then I felt that it didn't fit the flow that I set and I scrapped it. And January appears. And then here we are with another chapter!
> 
> So yeah, canon divergence from the very start. Also, not much Velvet in this one because our not-really-loved-at-this-point redhead took the spotlight in all his flurry of emotions. Don't worry, our beloved rough sister will make a comeback, Velvet Crowe style. So just you guys wait!
> 
> Like before, tell me how you guys think and see y'all later!


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